


when the day of reckoning comes

by perihelion (mattratat)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, rated t for iwa saying the fuck word, short and sweet, takes place sometime while oikawa's in argentina and iwaizumi is in school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28370238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattratat/pseuds/perihelion
Summary: the first of many kisses.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	when the day of reckoning comes

It isn’t the big moment that he’s expecting at all.

For starters, he wasn’t expecting his first kiss with Iwaizumi to happen on the cramped balcony of his even tinier apartment halfway across the world from their childhood bedrooms and the safety of an entire street between them. Instead, they have the safety of lives lived on two different continents looming between them. It's infinitely worse.

In the moments leading up to it, he isn’t making big, sweeping declarations. He doesn’t say that he’s been been waiting years, waiting for perhaps his entire life, for this moment. He doesn’t say he’s been craving it the same way he craves the feeling of a volleyball when he’s lying awake at night and unable to sleep: a dull and unending ache. He doesn’t say he’s been craving this moment like he craves the gold medals he sees hung around his old rivals’ necks on television: a sharp and unnerving pinch in his chest. 

He doesn’t tell him that he’s been waiting for it every moment since he stumbled upon a six year old Iwazumi in the park and asked him why he was knee deep in the pond. 

It isn’t a big moment at all when he grabs at Iwa-chan’s-  _ Hajime’s _ \- hand and thinks,  _ I should kiss him. _ It isn’t a big moment because, frankly, he’s had the thought at least twice a day since he was thirteen and realized that kissing boys was something that he could actually do. 

The difference between all these times, and now, is that his second thought is  _ fuck it _ and he actually does. He does kiss him. It’s selfish, because Hajime’s flight leaves first thing in the morning, but he isn't thinking about that now. For possibly the first time in his life, Tooru isn’t thinking three steps ahead of everyone else in the room. For once, he manages to surprise himself. There isn’t the moment of uncertainty that he thought would always grip him if he ever bothered to confess. 

Maybe that’s the least surprising part of all, though. Tooru knows that the feeling of a volleyball in his palms never feels more solid than when he knew he was sending it right to Iwaizumi. 

For a moment, they stand pressed together in a closed mouth kiss. The wind nips at his bare arms, but it doesn’t stand a chance against the warmth pooling itself in his chest now, wrapping around his heart and squeezing it with the force of a thousand fists. 

Against his lips, Hajime starts in surprise, his mouth opening in a half formed, “What the fuck?” 

And it’s a short kiss, because Tooru is pulling away just as quickly as he leaned in. Despite all his posturing, he’d sooner die than face Iwaizumi right now. 

He’s quicky throwing himself forward, though, leaning down to bury his face in the crook of his best friend’s neck, spitting out a rapid fire, “I’m sorry, Iwa-chan, I don’t know what came over me-” because he’s twenty-two and a world class athlete and somehow still so horrifically insecure and he feels like a rug has just been pulled out from under his feet and

“Dumbass,” Hajime cuts him off, and under any other circumstances, Tooru would call him unfalteringly rude, but for now he’s breathing heavily and taking in the scent of familiar cologne and Hajime is interrupting his thoughts and saying, “Don’t tell me you didn’t mean it.” 

Tooru takes in a sharp breath. 

“Don’t,” Hajime says again, his voice cracking in a way that Tooru hasn’t heard since they were seventeen, losing their final shot at Nationals. 

He looks up, sharply, and startles at the intensity of Hajime’s gaze upon his. There’s a shine to his dark, familiar eyes that Tooru dares to call glassy. For the second time that day, he’s surprised. 

When he opens his mouth to speak, no sound comes out. He thinks,  _ I want to kiss him again.  _

So he does. 

There aren’t any sweeping confessions of love. No flowers, no heartfelt speeches, and if either of them were asked, they would insist that there were no tears. 

It’s a simple set of kisses on a balcony under the night sky, Hajime’s familiar hand interlocked with his, and the smell of street food wafting up in the air. Tooru’s heart feels whole. 

It isn’t anything special. But it’s them. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! sorry for any typos and all the run on sentences, i just typed this and threw it to the world! also i apologize if anything seems ooc, as it's my first time writing them and all! but regardless i hope u enjoyed reading it!
> 
> have a great day!


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